


One Too Many

by epicfrenchfry



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Cheating, Depression, Inferiority Complex, Internal Monologue, Jealousy, Loss of Control, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Pent-Up Anger, Post-Break Up, Self-Pity, Suffering, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Love, asshole character, drinking the pain away, listen I really suck at summaries but I promise the story is good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 19:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11973822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epicfrenchfry/pseuds/epicfrenchfry
Summary: Nothing Ren could do would possibly wipe away his adoration of Silas, not even the knowledge that his love had gone unrequited. He can never forgive Silas, but he cannot get over him, and more and more Ren grows to believe that it was all his fault to begin with. After all, he could never truly be good enough, and it was foolish of him to hope so. His friends Tabby and Jay drag him out to a party to get his mind off things, but the plan backfires terribly when Silas himself shows up.





	One Too Many

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this based on a roleplay that my friend and I started, but never finished. Silas and Jay were her characters, Ren and Tabby were mine.

If Ren wasn’t so young, he would have been a barfly.  There was Silas, downing shots of the vodka Tabby’s brother Damion had smuggled in. There was some busty blonde girl, Silas’s arm slung around her shoulders. And, sure enough, there was that familiar rush of hot rage swirling in his gut. Silas’s face, his stupid smug laughing face, was enough to make Ren want nothing more than to toss back a few shots as well. That frightful clawing, ripping, tearing feeling in his chest was the one thing that always stopped him.

Depression is a funny thing. It filled him with such a horrible, empty feeling, but at the same time, hopeless longing is all that drove him. Was it normal to be so deeply conflicted? He hated Silas, like he had every right to, but he loved him, because it was impossible not to. He was godlike in both his looks and his charisma, and despite the lies he had been so kind to Ren, but that only served to make it all hurt worse.

Was it normal to hold such a grudge over a silly teenage love affair? That’s all high school had been so far, a rush of heat and love and passion for three years before the fated stab of betrayal that left the deepest of scars in his mind. High school sweethearts, that’s all they were, felled by typical teenage drama. He glared into the bubbling depths of his Pepsi, silently stewing.

He should say something. Oh, how badly he wanted to make a scene! To tell the whole club what Silas had done, to tell that girl he was with to watch her back! He would relish it, watching her pretty face crumble into tears, watching Silas finally get angry at him, or upset, or shocked even. Anything would be fine, anything besides the perfectly blasé attitude he had been maintaining. Ren’s hands clenched into fists in his lap, and for a second he was sure he was going to do it.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and Ren jumped, soda sloshing out of his cup. Tabby’s grinning face was just inches away from his, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous plot.

“C’mon man, you can’t sit here and sulk all night! It’s been weeks! Have some fun!”

“Tabby,” he began fruitlessly. She pressed a finger against his lips, shaking her head.

“No, Ren, listen. I made you come so you could have fun.” Ren gave her a dirty look. Tabby bit her lip, embarrassed. “Look man, I’m sorry. I know I promised it would all be fine, but I didn’t know Silas would be here!”

He sighed, turning his head away. “It’s fine,” he said, but it really wasn’t. Walking in, hoping to distract himself, and seeing _him_ had been a knife in the gut.

“C’mon. Please? Jay’s worried about you.”

"And you’re not?” Ren quirked an eyebrow, a playful smile toying at his lips. He couldn’t help it; Tabby’s devil-may-care attitude was contagious.

“Not in the slightest,” she replied, not missing a beat. “Let’s go get you a _real_ drink.” He let himself be pulled along, dragging his gaze away from Silas and his whore. Screw it; he’d partake in her offer. His mother never had to find out. This was his choice, nobody else's, and that feeling of control was intoxicating in itself.

Tabby pushed him gently into a chair at her table, a much less isolated one just off to the side of the dance floor. Jay brushed his hair out of his eyes and lifted his beer in greeting before taking an eager swig. Ren nodded in turn, more interested in the glass being set in front of him; three glistening ice cubes clinked against one another, but otherwise the glass was empty.

"Drink up! Turn that frown upside down!” she sang, pouring a generous amount of scotch into the waiting glass.

“Tabby,” he drawled, “I really don’t think-”

“Shhhh!” She pressed a finger to his lips again, jade eyes dancing. “Drink up!”

“Just drink it, man. You might feel better,” Jay said. “Plus, then you don’t have to listen to her bitch and whine.”

Tabby flipped him off as she strode to the dance floor. They both watched her go, tanned legs looking especially long in the denim shorts she wore. The dancing crowd parted in welcome and swallowed her whole. Jay sighed and leaned his chin on his palm. Ren, whose eyes were back on Silas, didn’t see his gaze grow sad.

“Ren,” he murmured, but his plea went unheard. Ren only had eyes for Silas, no matter how the sight of him and his new fling made his entire being throb with resentment. He seized his glass and with a trembling hand he brought it to his lips, downing a gulp. The scotch burned his throat on the way down, forcing out ragged coughs that Ren had to smother with more drink.

Teenagers are such fickle creatures, lying and cheating and fighting their way to a moment of hardly earned self-satisfaction. Ren liked to think of himself as different; he had been nothing but honest with Silas, after all, and he hadn’t retaliated when Silas did what he did. Maybe he was better than Silas, or maybe he wasn’t any better at all.

Looking at him, Silas had moved on. He had little to move on from; he clearly had never cared much for Ren to begin with. Ren was stranded, stuck in the moment Silas had betrayed him. He had never lied or cheated or fought with Silas, but _damn_ was he pathetic! To have done absolutely nothing wrong and to have been so horribly betrayed, and still to love him!  Just how deeply did he pity himself? He envied Silas, really. How lovely it must be to be able to hurt people without a second thought.

Silas reared back his head and laughed that velvet baritone laugh that had Ren weak at the knees all over again. His pretty little whore, snuggled up so sweetly against his side, batted her eyelashes up at him. Her lips moved, forming words Ren was too far away to hear, but he looked on as Silas smiled down at her, whispering into her ear. The girl’s face was a picture of joy, and she pressed herself more snugly against him.

Ren’s chest ached with jealousy. That should be him – it _used_ to be him, but really it never was. In their three years, Silas had never been faithful. Had he ever truly loved him? Or had he only seen him as an easy score, someone to lie to, someone to fall back on when he was between girls? He hated the thought of it, but more and more he thought it was true, and he couldn’t tell whether it was that or the alcohol that was making him feel nauseous.

He had never known about Silas’s girls, not until Silas had informed him with that sharp gleam in his eyes. For three years, for the entire three years, Silas had cheated. Ren’s eyes stung and he averted his gaze back to the glass in front of him. Water from the melting ice was bleeding into the dark amber liquid, swirling into the scotch and turning it a sort of piss-yellow. Ren scowled.

Once upon a time, he thought wryly, he had sworn he would never drink. Alcoholism had taken his father, landed him in jail, and left Ren's mother behind with three kids to raise. It's so bitterly ironic, he mused, staring into the amber depths of his drink. So dreadfully ironic, if he were to fall victim to the same vicious thing as his father. It was almost funny. He had sworn that he never would, but so what? Ren had come to realize that promises meant very little.

Tabby was dancing, drink in hand, hips swaying to the music. Silas was swirling the ice in his drink, taking another sip, and pulling his whore closer. Someone was grabbing his arm, shouting over the music, words slurred by drink. Ren shrugged Jay off, "Go dance with Tabby," he sighed. When would Jay get it? He didn't want to dance, he never would. He hated parties, he hated this shitty loud music, and he hated the crowding mass of gyrating bodies. He hated the couples in the corners, hands everywhere they shouldn't be, faces flushed with the pleasure of being with each other, lips connecting for so long Ren was sure they would suffocate.

Ren could ignore it, easily, but that would require a refilled glass, and perhaps a bottle of something stronger. He had promised himself that he would never resort to this, but promises didn't mean shit so he rose to his feet, pushing his way through the crowd and grabbing a bottle of something, anything that would distract him from the way Silas's eyes had somehow found him, the way his lips had curved and how his hand was now on the blonde's rear. He thought again about confrontation, shouting to the whole party about what a horrible prick Silas was, but the thought of all of these eyes on him made him quail. His hand was shaking; he would have to sit down. He grabbed the whole bottle and took it with him back to his seat. There was no sense in pouring it, not when he planned on drinking it all anyways, but he did so regardless. There was more of an elegant feel to it than swigging straight from the bottle, and in some little way that subtle dignity made him feel better about this whole pitiful thing.

Jay was back, grip firm on his wrist and Ren found himself being pulled up and away from the table, out onto the dance floor. He didn’t protest, thinking that maybe Jay and Tabby were right, and maybe he could take his mind off things and have a little fun. Some pop song was playing from the speaker, likely connected to whoever’s iTunes, and Ren thought it was trashy but he danced to it nonetheless because he was at this party with his friends, and he was here to have fun, not worry about Silas. If fun meant dancing and singing and laughing to awful songs he despised, then so be it.

Tabby was living it up, hips moving to a raunchier tune, and Jay and Ren were both laughing at her. She gave them both a shit-eating grin and a playful wink before grabbing Jay and pulling him close for him to join her. The music boomed through the speaker, dominating the airwaves so they couldn't talk but instead communicated through exuberant motion and the way laughter molded faces, conveying joy and ecstasy and other bright, happy emotions Ren sought.

With a laugh on his lips, Ren turned with the intention of getting a fresh drink, maybe one of those fruity ones he'd seen a few girls drinking, but he walked right into someone's broad, toned chest. Ren inhaled sharply as he came face to face with the one he had been avoiding. Suddenly he was being whisked away, away from the dancers and into a quieter area of the basement.

“Ren,” Silas muttered, “we need to talk.”

His eyes were wide, face pale as he stared up at Silas. The musky scent of his cologne permeated the air, it was all he could smell, and Ren thought he could grow drunk on this alone. He was in such a close proximity to him, he couldn’t believe-

“Ren?”

“S-Silas!” Ren’s voice cracked and he winced. “Silas… what is there to talk about?”

“I wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize? Apologize for what, cheating on me? Lying to me? Leading me on, letting me think that maybe you actually loved me?”

Silas sighed, lifting his gaze to look out over the crowd. It was almost as though he was embarrassed by Ren’s behavior, and that thought infuriated him. The next second, however, he was speaking again in that honeyed voice of his. “Ren, calm down and hear me out. All right? Ren… it’s not that I didn’t like you, but you’re just a kid.”

“I’m seventeen!” he cried indignantly. “You’re only nineteen!”

Silas gave him the closest thing to a pained look that he would ever produce. “Yes, I’m nineteen, and I’m in college. I couldn’t maintain a relationship with a high schooler, it would be too hard, and it wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Oh, quite the noble act!” The hurt that Ren had been wallowing in subsided just enough for his rage to take over, fueling his words. “You didn’t break up with me because you went to college. If it were that simple, I would be perfectly fine. I could accept that. You cheated on me for _three years_! There is no excuse for that!”

“You know I have a hard time-”

“There is no excuse! Don’t even try to make one! Three years, Silas! Did you ever love me?”

The silence he received in return made Ren’s blood run cold. He never had. If Silas couldn’t, then would anyone? Silas loved _everyone_ , and everyone loved Silas. If Silas couldn’t love him, was there something wrong with him?

“No,” came the harsh reply. “I liked you Ren, but you are so hard to love. I liked spending time with you, but you hate going out and you hate being home, and all you ever want to do is read! You’re cute, Ren, but that’s about all you have going for you. I couldn't handle all your issues, and trust me, there's a lot.”

“You could have tried,” Ren said miserably.

“Ren! You're just too much work! Depression, anxiety, and that goddamn inferiority complex you've got… You have a medley of pills to take every morning and I can't deal with that!”

“That's not my fault-” Ren began heatedly, but Silas cut him off.

“Even besides all that, you’re just so damn boring! If I didn’t date those girls on the side, I would have gone nuts. You know how I am, I need attention. I need excitement, and I needed someone who could provide it.”

“But I loved you! Did they? Do your _girls_ love you?”

Silas shrugged. “Probably not, but that doesn’t really matter to me. I needed more than what you could give me, and if I had to look elsewhere to find it, then who are you to judge me? Maybe _you_ should think about why.”

Ren took a shaky step backwards, bumping into the person behind him but she didn’t seem to mind. He took a deep breath and, steeling his nerves, he uttered, “Leave me the hell alone.” Silas quirked a perfect eyebrow and appeared to consider Ren for a brief moment before he obeyed. Ren watched him stroll away with watery eyes before he himself retreated back to his empty table in the corner.

Even as Ren remained defiant, he came to realize that Silas was in fact right. He was a partier, there was no denying that, and all Ren had ever wanted to do was spend time together alone. He got uncomfortable in social situations and as such rarely socialized, so it had been a shock when Silas had approached him that day in the library and asked him out. Having harbored a crush on the upperclassman, he immediately agreed and somehow fooled himself into thinking that they would last forever. Ren had felt like the luckiest guy in the world; of all boys, Silas LaBelle wanted him! Not to mention that his first relationship had seemed so successful, lasting three years before the very abrupt and brutal end of it all.

It really had seemed successful, Ren mused bitterly. Silas had seemed happy, and he had never appeared to mind the missed parties or the overabundance of quality time between the two of them. Ren must have been particularly stupid to have thought someone like Silas would ever love him. He wasn't good enough, and deep down he had known that at the time, but he was just so blinded by dazzling aspirations of a future together that he had never paid that thought much attention. Well, never again. Ren knew where he belonged now, and that was alone here in this corner of a party he never even wanted to go to — yet another example of him being unable to say no.

So maybe Silas was an asshole, but he was still Silas and Ren still loved him, but he didn't want to. He wanted to forget Silas, he wanted to forget this burning pain in his chest, and he never wanted to feel it again. He craved an end to the thoughts swirling in his brain, thoughts whispering ‘you're not good enough, you were and you never will be’. How could he ever be happy with what he was, with _who_ he was?

“Ren!” called a cheery voice. It was Jay of course, back again to grab at his shoulder and demand attention. Ren didn't want to talk, he didn't want to dance, he just wanted to be left alone.

“What?” he snapped.

Jay blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… I was just going to ask if you were all right. Tabby and I saw you talking to Silas–”

“I'm fine! I just want to be alone right now, okay?”

“Um, yeah… Okay, man, I'll leave you alone.” Jay backed off, eyeing Ren with surprise. Ren didn't feel the slightest bit guilty for being snippy; he had told Jay he didn't want to dance in the first place so really it was his fault that Silas had approached him! He grabbed his glass and drained it, blinking the wetness out of his eyes.

“Hey! What the hell is your problem?”

Ren fought back a miserable outcry. He just wanted to be left alone!

“Listen to me when I'm talking to you!” Tabby smacked him upside the head, forcing him to look at her.

“Maybe I don't want to talk, okay? Maybe I want to be left alone! Did you ever think of that?”

“Ren. Tell me what Silas said to you.”

“It's none of your goddamn business!”

“Don't you bite my head off! I didn't do a damn thing, and neither did Jay! Your problem is with Silas, so don't take your pissy mood out on us!” Tabby glared fiercely down at him. Ren looked balefully back at her, unperturbed. “Asshole,” she muttered, turning on her heel and storming away.

Ren felt only the slightest flicker of guilt, washing it away with another swig of scotch. An asshole, Tabby had called him. Harsh, but was she wrong? He thought not. Maybe, he thought vaguely, maybe _that_ was why Silas left. He was just an awful, horrible person unworthy of someone like Silas, unworthy of anyone really. That sick, churning feeling in his gut was a hurricane of alcohol-induced and emotional pain, and it wasn’t going away.

Whether he liked it or not, Silas had been his crutch. He had promised him so much, helped him realize his own self-worth, and then he turned and stabbed him in the back with such cold-blooded cruelty it left Ren reeling even now, weeks later. Ren was no fool, he knew of all his issues and he couldn’t blame Silas for not wanting to deal with them. He needed control over his own life, and Silas had given that to him. Now he was alone and at a loss as for what to do. He couldn't seem to trust anyone any more than he could trust himself; his life was one whole broken promise. He couldn't do anything to regain control again, after all the only thing certain in life is uncertainty. He couldn't control what other people did, but at least he could control what he did about it, what he did to himself. He could push them all away and drown these horrid emotions before they could drown him.

“Heh,” he chuckled, “at least I'm not hurting anyone but myself.”

He didn’t like this, he didn’t want to be like this, he didn’t want to think like this anymore. He couldn’t get the thoughts out of his head, and he knew how he could but hated the thought of getting hooked, replacing one addiction with another. Ren glanced surreptitiously back at Silas, silky locks of white-blond hair now pulled back into a small ponytail. The glass in his hand was full, the vodka inside sloshing merrily but never spilling. Ren looked back at his own empty glass, grit his teeth, and filled it to the brim. Somehow it seemed more superficial, more forced. He was losing himself, looking for something that wasn’t there, something that might not even exist, and he couldn’t keep doing this to himself, but frankly he didn’t care anymore.

Forgetting really was easy, but the saccharine allure of moving on, of being okay, was out of his reach. There was no moving on, not for him, not from Silas. There was no being okay, not after everything. Tabby was laughing as she danced with Jay, flipping her dyed fuchsia hair, so gleeful, so blithe. How on Earth could she manage to be like that? How could she act like she had not a single care in the world? Ren could never feel that way, so he was left to drown himself, but he would do so gladly. To smother his thoughts in any way would be welcomed. Thankfully, he had nothing but time in order to do so.

The minutes dragged on like centuries, but soon he had lost count of the glasses he had filled. At some point, the time had sped up and he lost track of that too. At some point, he switched to the same vodka that Silas had been sipping. At some point, he started to lose himself.

It was a sweet feeling, all that he craved, but there was something wrong. The alcohol was blurring his system, blurring his senses, and he downed another, and there was Silas still but suddenly he didn't matter, and deep down that scared Ren more than anything. He wanted to move on, he wanted to forget, but the idea of forgetting Silas was innately terrifying; he spun with a wild-eyed look of panic to beg Tabby to take the vodka away, but she was gone. She was gone and he was alone — alone with the vodka — and he couldn't go on but he couldn't bring himself to stop.


End file.
